Trick My Ride: Sandcrawler Edition!
by sandhill
Summary: Check out how these Jawas can ride in style, when a reality tv show host helps trick out their sancrawler to the max!


* Cue boisterous intro music *

Obnoxious Narrator: Heeeyy! Welcome to another episode of Trick My Ride, on the MHN: Music Holonet Network, where we don't play music videos anymore... Just hours and hours of mindless reality shows-Like this one! OHH yeah!

On today's episode we're gonna trick out this old dilapidated clunker of a Jawa sand crawler on the planet of Tatooine; and turn it into a monsta-fortress-on wheels! Let's go.

The music fades, camera slowly panning, almost agonizingly slow enough to make one feel the heat from the desert sands, of Tatooine's Dune Sea. On the horizon, the side view of a lumbering hulk of brown durasteel labors across the sand. It belches out dark sooty smoke, leaving it in its wake, and as we get a closer shot, the harmony of grating metal, like the sound of a thousand nails on a chalkboard, greet us.

The massive bulk shudders, and the rumble of mechanical failure inside lets us know the sad heap is in its death knell.

A side ramp flops down, spraying sand, as little jawa pour out, running, diving, and even rolling down the ramp for their lives. A ball of flame erupts from the side of their mobile home.

The camera focuses to reveal a shot of two sad little jawa eyes forming the most pathetic face, watching his home perish. In the background we see two little legs kicking, half of a jawa still stuck in a dune. Two of his friends come over, and grabbing a leg each, they pull him out.

"Whoa little fellas! Looks like you need a new ride."

The jawa all turn, beholding the stranger, a giant to them, dressed in his 90's style foreign garb. "A genie perhaps?" One mutters in Jawa. Luckily, subtitles across the bottom of the screen let us know what he said, in Basic.

"A jin! A jin!" All the jawa throw up their hands and chant happily.

The scene changes to a montage of different shots, sad pitiful music plays while revealing the many different less than flattering parts of the sand crawler. It's a mess. It's cluttered. There's fire damadge, and on the galley table a open box of half eaten pizza that looks several days old.

"Ahw, come on guys!" The charismatic host holds his nose.

One of the jawa shrugs and turns to the others embarrassed. "It does have a frat boy look." The subtitles reveal.

"And burnt popcorn smell." Another jawa adds.

"WHAT is that, man?" The host over dramatically points to the remnants of a burnt out microwave, and burnt out toaster beside it.

The jawa leader is instantly livid, jumping at least half of his height in the air, then turning and diving towards the littlest jawa, who cowers away in the corner.

The rest of his crew catch the leader and hold him back from hurting the little fella.

*Beep! Beep-beep-beep!*

The subtitles run furiously across the screen now, some words bleeped out: "I TOLD you 'never run the microwave and toaster at the same time' or we'd get an overload!"

The host breaks in to help mellow things out. "Whoa! Calm down man... I mean. Uh, we're gonna fix you right up man. We can get this place tricked out in no time."

Jawa leader stops fighting now, and tugs down on his tunic getting self-control, smoothing out the wrinkles in his tunic to help somehow ease the mental wrinkles.

"...We'll even get that burnt pop tart smell out of your toaster-" Host keeps rambling, unsure of what else to say or do, awkwardly.

Jawa leader snatches up a giant stirring spoon out of the dish strainer and lunges towards little jawa again, brandishing it, but is caught again, and held back by the jawa crew. Little jawa scurries off, and the scene changes.

Now, another montage plays, with happier music-Showing snapshots of the jawa and host installing new equipment, fixing things, even putting in new furniture, with brighter colors. The rooms even have themes now!

Cutscene: Host and jawa pushing a large engine into place. "This new engine has 20 more banthapower, and more torque on the new transmission." The host narrates.

Cutscene: Jawa work to put a new layer of paint on the walls. One is hoisted up by a pulley system, to get the higher spots.

Cutscene: A dirty broken jawa sized commode rolls down the ramp into a pile of other gutted junk. After a few seconds, two jawa look at each other like "What are we DOING!" Then, hurry down the ramp to bring all the junk back inside.

The music lowers and the host breaks in to ask the jawa, "Hey, I bet you fellas get tired of being harassed and chased by those pesky sand people don't ya?"

*Jawa groan in chorus* (some dejected)

"Well, thanks to some of our sponsors at Triamadime Weapons Systems, I'm pleased to announce a new set of mobile command unit anti personnel turrets!

Quick zoom in on Host: "Wow, what a mouth full."

Music ramps back up with a guitar solo, for a dramatic crescendo as the montage of them all working finishes.

One jawa on the outside is held up by a rope, welding one of the anti peronel turrets in place. He finishes as the music ends, pushes his welding face shield up, and turns with a disturbing smile at the camera.

The scene changes to reveal the new sand crawler. No more pock marks in the paint job. It's dusk outside as the desert twin suns begin to fade.

Narrator: She's not the same behemoth she was before. Her treads turn smoothly, engine almost purring. This new predator of the desert sands is on the prowl! Cougar alert! Oh - *ahem!* Excuse me.

Inside the crawler now, we see a jawa swivel on his padded chair to face his console station. He's wearing earphones, and gesticulating at his screen. Leader jawa walks over to look, while another jawa pilots.

The two faces are dark, behind their hoods, but suddenly the green glow from the monitor illuminates their smiling teeth as an alarm goes off.

Outside, three tusken raiders pop up from behind a boulder.

Before they can even level their rifles *blem!-blem!blem!* The flourescent green explosion and screech of the anti perssonel turret echoes.

All three crumple into a heap; smoldering on the hard dirt floor.

The scene changes. Host dude is trying to relax as much as possible on a jawa sized couch, and watch the new flat screen. Normally, for Jawa sized creatures it'd be a two seater, or love seat. But, with him, a human sized male, on it, it resembles more of a recliner. He's munching on Cheetos, and one or two roll down and off his shirt.

"Ohh! My new carpet!" We read in subtitle as the jawa leader comes into view.

"Oh! Sorry man. No biggie. I'll get it cleaned before I leave. Totally."

Jawa dude cools off then starts babbling, "Oh, it's no problem. You said you needed a lift to Moss Eiseley, right? Well, we're just gonna make a little stop to trade with these storm troopers-shouldn't take but a second, an... I'll just step outside now if you need me." Jawa leader exits.

Through a lens view, (like a security camera) when jawa leader is safely away, we see host dude looks around then leans over picks up the Cheetos and eats them. *crunch crunch crunch*

Cutscene: Close-up of Jawa leader being interviewed talking in Jawa. Subtitles: "When I saw those Cheetos fall down, like in slow motion, onto my new royal purple shag carpet... I was just like-da-da-don't get me wrong, now. I'm grateful. BUT-you'd think some people would have more respect for other people's stuff."

Return to outside view: Two stormtroopers stand outside, white armor gleaming in the hot sun, casually holding their blasters. Well, gleaming other than the slightly reddish rust colored stains on their armor. "This should be easier than the farm."

"yeah."

Inside the head jawa peers out through a security camera. "I don't like the way those stains on their suits look, either." He says to the others. "Just be ready for anything."

*Tish!-sha-sha-sha-shu* The hydraulic ramp majestically lowers. A bank of fog rolls out, from the cool air inside meeting the hot air outside. The storm troopers look at each other silently. (It hadn't been that way last time they saw this crawler.)

"Welcome my friends! How may we help you?" Head jawa profusely salutes them with outstretched arms.

"Do it. Ahuh-huh-huh!" Trooper 1 turns and says to his comrade, his shoulders heaving with laughter.

Trooper 2 is visibly laughing himself as he stammers out, "Oh my gosh he's got a blaster-Vape him!"

Jawa leader's body tenses as perplexity leaves, replaced by fear. He pivots, runs up the ramp and slaps a button on the wall. Bright red blaster bolts fly past him, perforating a safety poster on the wall, some of its edges singed and eaten away. The ramp quickly hoists itself up. *swish*

Inside, we see and hear red alert alarms going off. Host dude panics and dumps the rest of his bag on the floor. He jumps up, the two seater couch stuck on his butt, and bumps his head on the ceiling. "Ahw sh-! Stupid jawa height ceilings." The couch falls off and he leaves the room.

Back outside, the two troopers laughter wears off prematurely. That wasn't supposed to happen. It was anticlimactic. They hadn't expected the ramp to rise so quickly. Last time they'd met to question the jawas, on some droids for sale, their crawler had been a mobile junkyard. Now, they had planned to add the smoldering ruins of the jawa crawler with the burnt out farms to make it look like sand people had been on the war path.

"Uh, T2419, looks like we're gonna need that artillery piece brought up." Trooper 1 turns back over his shoulder to say. Even though they were talking through their helmet comms it was still a natural habit to face the person you were talking to; and good manners too.

Static filled the comm a moment as T-whatever artfully cut off the mic, to man handle the big gun down from being pulled on a little trailer behind a bantha. (He didn't want to be court-martialed for blessing his superior officer out.)

As the troopers labored to put the gun in place, the side of the crawler popped open to reveal the antipersonnel turrets. *Cha-cha! Cha-cha! Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha!*

Heavy weapons trooper's chest plate erupts leaving a hole behind and smoke. He stands for a moment, but then topples forward over and onto his big gun.

Trooper 2 gets a bolt in the back, wildly pitching his blaster forward, and spins, collapsing and kicking up dust as he falls.

Another side plate of the crawler opens to reveal the twin cones of a double rocket launcher, although no one notices amidst the confusion and terror.

Two other storm troopers split up to run for their lives, and the bantha proceeds to haphazardly pull the little trailer away, trampling, and rolling over one of them.

Trooper 1 tries to be a hero. Grabbing heavy weapon guy's arm, he wrenches the body free from atop the weapon, and tosses the dead trooper aside. Eyeing the weapon sights through his helmet, he tries to bear down on the crawler with the artillery piece.

*Fah-whew!Whoosh!Kaboom!*

One rocket streaks off, instantly ripping the gun from its tripod, vaporizing trooper 1. A geyser of dirt and debris erupt into the air, raining down material for several seconds.

Jawas high five each other inside, yelling, and jumping, celebrating.

Little jawa handles one of the turrets, hitting all around the last stormtrooper, but missing him.

"Never mind him, little one." Jawa leader pats him on the back. "We'll leave him to tell the others!"

The jawa all burst into laughter again.

And there you have it folks! That's what you get from having a highly developed, highly efficient, and lethal home security system! This episode of Trick Your Ride was brought to you by our partners at Trimadime Security Systems.


End file.
